


Follow the Leader

by DMitchell1985



Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Sex, Trichophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMitchell1985/pseuds/DMitchell1985
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One need not dive toward the ocean floor in an bid for exploration, because Murdock already has that at his fingertips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow the Leader

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stiney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stiney/gifts).



> **Warnings/Kinks/Enticements:** Trichophilia: a partialism in which one becomes sexually aroused by human hair :: Exhibitionism: a desire or compulsion to expose parts of one's body – specifically the genitals or buttocks of a man or woman, or the breasts of a woman – in a public or semi-public circumstance, in crowds or groups of friends or acquaintances, or to strangers.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _The A-Team_.
> 
>  **Author’s Notes:** Written to cheer up [Stiney](http://crazyfoolstiney.livejournal.com) following her bad day. At this point, rough couple of days. I hope that you enjoy this and that it’s a nice pick-me-up for you. :)

Murdock slid the tip of his finger along the curve of Face’s eyelashes. He knew that he should let the man sleep, but some part of him could never quite keep his hands to himself. Face’s body was a summons that Murdock could not resist. He had gleefully discovered that it mattered little, because he didn’t _want_ to fight the overwhelming urge to occupy every inch of Face’s personal space. Every sliver of his being wanted nothing more than to surrender to the wonder of his newest obsession.

There was something about the smoothness of Face’s skin as it collided headlong into the gritty patches of his body hair that ensnared Murdock’s undivided attention. The fixation began with his lover’s eyebrows, which even he knew to be an odd thing to love about a person. But to Murdock, it was what it was. From there, the fixation grew and devoured all sense of self and decency; until it was all Murdock could do _not_ to trace patterns in Temp’s 5 o’clock shadow as the bristly hairs sprung up to meet his palms at the end of each long day in front of the rest of the guys.

Face tolerated a lot from him, but somehow, he didn’t think his lover would embrace his intimate exploration of his body in front of the rest of team. _Boundaries_ , are what Face was always harping at him about, like he didn’t know what those were. 

In theory, he knew precisely what they were. 

The practice of it always seemed to go a bit sketchy when Face would stretch his arms high above his head and his happy trail would peek out to say hello. Murdock’s fingers would instantly brush through the softly coarse hair to seek out the smoothness of his skin hidden beneath those defiant hair follicles. It was though Face didn’t understand the meaning of the word “compulsion,” because he’d yelp as though wounded and bat Murdock’s hand away. His eyes would zoom across the room to see if anyone else had noticed the creep of Murdock’s fingertips as they strolled toward the waistband of Face’s jeans.

When he’d see that no one was even paying attention, Face would sigh in relief and growl out that Murdock _was not to touch in front of the others._ Like he hadn’t heard that one before. But Murdock knew different. For all of Face’s complaints about his wandering hands, he knew Face got off on it. He got off on feeling wanted and desired beyond all others gathered in any particular area at any particular time.

More than that, he got off on the feeling of Murdock’s hand stroking him through his trousers in crowded spaces. Half-assed protests aside, Murdock knew Face loved that anyone could see the shift of his hands as they delved beneath the expensive fabrics Face insisted on donning at any given time of day. 

And Murdock, Murdock loved the way Face would bite his lip to keep quiet and how his eyelids would drop to half-mast as his breath quickened. He loved that he could feel Face’s heart thumping madly inside his breast through layers of skin and bone and fabric. It was intoxicating and wholly addictive. And if Face thought that Murdock could give up the high he got from running his hands through Face’s body hair, which dutifully guided him to his most favorite parts of his lover’s body, he was sadly mistaken.

There was nothing better in this life or the next than closing his palm over the head of Face’s cock through his pants and rubbing him off until he was a shuddering mess. Face always tried to hold it together, but Murdock knew better than most how tightly to grip and when to stroke hard enough to elicit the delectable burn that Face loved so well. He knew best how to trap Face’s knees on either side of his own while they pretended to admire the view in some public place or another. All the while, his hand would be mercilessly grinding against the length of Face’s shaft through his pants and his body would absorb the best and the worst of Face’s trembling as Face inevitably came in his pants.

Face’s breath would catch and Murdock would sometimes swallow his cries with a kiss that Hannibal had once called ‘indescribably obscene’. Obscene or not, it was all pure instinct that his body enacted without thought or conscious allowance from Murdock himself. It was a well-played response that Face drew out of him the same way that he coaxed each orgasm from Face’s body. They were merely two parts of a whole.

Which is how Murdock found himself sprawled out upon Face’s bed with his fingers sashaying across the stubble above Face’s lip. He gently traced the outline of those lips next and shifted closer to steal a kiss from the sleeping man beside him.

“You just going to keep feeling me up when you think I’m sleeping, or are we going to fuck already?” Face asked drowsily, his eyes only half-open.

Murdock grinned in the dim illumination of the moonlight that stole its way into the bedroom between the unguarded spaces of the Venetian blinds.

“I think that can be arranged,” Murdock whispered softly, his hand already moving underneath the thin sheet that separated Face from him. “I think that I can do better than just fucking you, too. Care to see how?”

Face’s eyes were fully open now and his lover gazed at him with a heat that even he himself found to be as much of an invitation as it was a warning for the havoc he was so close to releasing. Havoc or not, Murdock knew that he wanted all of it. For where was the fun in life without the danger to match the safety of familiar arms?

Face smirked, a tiny quirk of his lips that bared his canines at his lover, and spoke only two words, "Challenge accepted."


End file.
